


The Hour of Separation

by ellebeedarling



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Realization of Feelings, Romance, Sexual Content, action adventure, hidden dialogue prompt, me3 setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:17:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18034955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebeedarling/pseuds/ellebeedarling
Summary: The Reapers have invaded and everything is going to hell, just as Shepard predicted. When he escapes earth after a six-month incarceration, he learns that his lover, Zaeed Massani is missing. Shepard knows he has a job to do, but he will stop at nothing to find Zaeed and finally tell him the truth.***NOTE: The mood board is now visible. I had some problems with hosting. So if you didn't see it, click again and take a gander!





	The Hour of Separation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Junker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junker/gifts).



> A gift for Junker!
> 
> The story is based on this prompt: 
> 
> In Zaeed's hidden ME3 dialogue, he mentions that Cerberus was trying to turn him into a husk, which is why he hunts Cerberus down now. I'd love something where Shep is on a rescue mission to get him back, or maybe Zaeed is partly/fully infected and Shep is desperate to change him back? (This is something I've been wanting to write but haven't had time!! I'd love to see your interpretation of it!)
> 
> It kinda ran away from me a little bit, but I hope you enjoy it!! And the mood board is made by me as well!

 

 

 

_And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation._

 

_~Khalil Gibran_

 

* * *

 

 

The galaxy had gone to hell, and all Shepard could think was, “I tried to warn you.” Time and again, he’d made a fool of himself in an attempt to get pig-headed politicians and military brass (who were nothing more than glorified, pig-headed politicians) to see the proverbial writing on the wall, but no dice. They weren’t having it, and just as Shepard had known - had predicted - would happen, it was the civilians, the innocents, who were paying the price for that stubbornness. The image of that little boy climbing aboard a doomed shuttle would haunt him for the rest of his life.

 

Shepard was furious. And rightly so. His reputation as a soldier should have been more than enough to lend credence to his prophecies, but history had a way of repeating itself. He wouldn’t be the first person martyred, metaphorically or otherwise, for telling the truth. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be the last.

 

After allowing himself a brief and silent fit of temper, he wiped his mind clean of the turmoil. Dwelling wouldn’t help. Gloating damn sure wouldn’t help. And brooding - as Zaeed would have labelled it - while satisfying, would be of absolutely no use right now. Funny how those in command wanted him swept under the rug and locked away from public sight until the shit hit the fan. Then it was Commander Shepard to the rescue once again.

 

He suited up, snapping the pieces of his mental armor into place along with the physical. He would need every weapon in his arsenal to save their collective asses this time. There was no time for… brooding.

 

The atmosphere in the shuttle to Mars was tense, something he’d never experienced in Kaidan’s presence before. It was unsettling. The whole damn thing was unsettling - Kaidan’s watchful wariness, James’ puppy-like exuberance, the feeling of time slipping through his fingers with every step he took. Finding Liara on the Red Planet sent a swift jolt of relief right through his belly. For a moment, he had two feet on firm ground. Then just as suddenly as that respite had come, the asari sent his world tilting off its axis again.

 

When he’d first met Liara, she’d been quiet and bookish, out of her element in the company of others, but while he’d been dead, the shy girl he’d known had come into her own. She’d matured, grown a backbone that he’d been proud of. Even become a bit ruthless. So he was shocked to see the nervous woman with the wringing hands standing in front of him.

 

The situation at the research facility was critical, no question, but he’d become accustomed to seeing the asari more decisive, more in control. Her jitteriness set off warning klaxons in his head. “What else?” he demanded.

 

Liara glanced first at Kaidan then at James before beckoning Shepard closer. “I have some information which you will find…” She twirled her hand in the air, trying to pluck the right word from the ether.

 

“Liara,” he warned.

 

“It’s Zaeed,” she said hurriedly. “Just before the station went dark, I received information from one of my operatives that he’d been taken prisoner… by Cerberus.”

 

Shepard scowled as memories filtered through his mind. Zaeed’s rusty laugh and crooked smile. His crude humor and gravelly voice. His callused fingers and whiskey breath. Fiery passion barely contained within his warm skin. Those memories had kept Shepard sane during the darkest days of his confinement. He’d never dared to let himself hope that there would be new memories for future days, but this was never how he’d imagined an end of things with Zaeed. Shepard would have been the missing variable, the one killed by enemy forces or taken by indoctrination. Not Zaeed.

 

Never Zaeed.

 

A brick formed in his throat making his voice tight, his words gruff. “First we deal with Mars,” he ground out, “then you tell me everything.”

  


***

  


Shepard’s forehead rested in his palm, his other fist curled tightly around the datapad containing all the information Liara had recovered. Which wasn’t much. The Normandy hurtled through space, speeding toward Palaven, the primarch, and (hopefully) Garrus. The exact opposite direction of Zaeed’s last known location. While Shepard would prioritize these missions much differently for personal reasons, he still had a job to do. One that required yet another erected barrier between his mind and heart. But Garrus could help him find Zaeed, so in a sense he was killing two birds with one stone. For now it would have to be enough.

 

He’d hidden himself away in his room. Everything was decaying rapidly, devolving into chaos at faster than light speeds. People were dying, cultures were being destroyed, thousands of years of civilization and history were being wiped out. And Shepard sat, locked away from his crew, poring over clues for finding his missing lover.

 

A bottle of scotch sat by his elbow, Zaeed’s favorite. Shepard would save it for when the man was rescued. After giving him hell for allowing himself to be captured in the first place, after kissing the ever-loving shit out of him, after dragging him back to the safety of the captain’s quarters, they would open this bottle, and Shepard would have those new memories he hadn’t known he needed until now.

 

He ran a thumb over the label, tucked the bottle away in his desk drawer, and marched toward the elevator. Palaven was waiting.

  


***

 

Garrus had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but hell, who didn’t right now? Shepard felt guilty for bothering the turian with something so insignificant in the grand scheme of total annihilation. But then Garrus told him that he was worried about his family, and Shepard realized that, with the end of all things looming, families and relationships were all that mattered. The Reapers would live or die, life would continue in some form or fashion, but the people we cared about were a once in a lifetime occurrence that simply could not wait. Garrus had put out feelers about his family, and Shepard would do anything the turian asked to help him find them. He had to believe his friend would do the same for him.

 

The turian regarded the datapad with a grim face as he read through the bits of information Liara had pieced together. Shepard imagined that same expression on his face as he’d worked to solve cases while with C-sec. He was silent for a long minute then passed the datapad back to Shepard. “So we’re on our way to Omega?”

 

Shepard smiled for the first time in days and patted the turian’s shoulder before leaving the room.

  


***

 

Omega was everything Shepard remembered - and hated. Dark and fetid, riotous and woven through with an oppressive atmosphere of despair. Shepard had grown up on streets similar to these. Recognized the greed and desperation in the hungry eyes that followed them. The stench of fear burned his nostrils.

 

Garrus and Liara followed him toward Zaeed’s last known location - a seedy bar in the slums where drug addicts skulked and bounty hunters conducted business. Some of them were even foolish enough to think they escaped Aria T’loak’s watchful eye here, but Shepard knew better. He could probably ask Aria for help, but the asari pirate queen’s help always came with a price. He would use her as a last resort.

 

The bartender was a scowling batarian with one too few eyes who served only two drinks - clear liquor or brown liquor. Shepard politely declined either. “When was the last time you saw this man?”

 

The three-eyed bartender glanced at the holo projection then continued pouring drinks. It was too early in the game to fall back on threats, but he wasn’t above it. Whatever had happened to Zaeed, they were running out of time. Since no ransom demands had been made, Shepard had to believe that the purpose of the kidnapping was to cause harm, and while Zaeed was more than capable of protecting himself - usually - he could currently be incapacitated in any number of ways.

 

Shepard quickly discovered that there was a direct correlation between his emotional attachment to Zaeed his diminished patience for bullshit. For some reason, this came as a shock. Perhaps he’d fooled himself into thinking that all Zaeed meant to him was a good fuck, or maybe he’d disconnected from his emotions as a means of self-preservation. Either way, the longer the batarian ignored them, the more irate Shepard grew.

 

“About a week,” the bartender finally said. “Ordered a scotch but didn’t drink it. Left with a purple asari. Looked like they were off to have some fun.” The batarian leered, which was a strange and somewhat disturbing sight. Shepard’s stomach rolled.

 

“Got a name?”

 

“Nope.”

 

He tossed a credit chit on the counter. “Thanks for the help.”

 

Outside, he scanned his surroundings as if clues would magically manifest themselves before his very eyes.

 

“I can see if there are any security cameras in the area,” Liara offered meekly.

 

Garrus and Shepard scoffed at the same time. “We’re better off looking for more eye witnesses,” Shepard said.

 

“Or we could just go to Aria,” Garrus suggested. “She may not have known what Zaeed means to you, but she knew he was part of your crew. She’d be pretty damn interested in information on any of us.”

 

 _What Zaeed means to you._ The statement wormed its way under Shepard’s skin, leaving a stinging ache in the hollow of his chest. He nodded and set his sights on Afterlife.

  


***

 

Any other time, the entertainment of Afterlife would have offered a pleasant distraction. He hadn’t spent much time here, but he could appreciate the aesthetic all the same. He struggled to contain the memory sparking at the edges of his mind, tugging him away from his purpose.

 

_The asari dancer, writhing lithely._

 

_Filthy words whispered roughly in his ear._

 

_Scratchy fingers scuffing across his skin._

 

_Wet lips against his throat._

 

He shook the memory away. Head down, he marched toward Aria’s dias not pausing for her security scans. Two batarians held pistols to his head, but his eyes were trained on the asari and her smug expression. With the tilt of her head, the pistols lowered. With the flick of her wrist, she gestured for Shepard to sit. Shepard crossed his arms and stared at her, her wicked grin widening.

 

“Can I offer you a drink, Shepard?” she asked coyly. He was in no mood for games. He needed to be out of this place, off this asteroid. He needed… “Her name is Petra T’vassa,” Aria said with a shrug. Another tilt of her head and an OSD was thrust into Shepard’s hand. “Her ship’s transponder - the _SS Armiter.”_

 

“What’s the price?”

 

Aria’s eyes raked over Shepard’s body, her lips curving indecently. He’d never felt more like a piece of meat in his life. She had another thing coming if she thought… “No charge,” she drawled. “This time.”

 

Shepard bowed his head in thanks and left without another word, uploading the ship’s code to EDI as he went. “Liara,” he said over his shoulder. “See what you can do with this.” Before he could close it, his omnitool pinged with a message.

 

_Petra and Zaeed used to have a bit of a thing. Just thought you’d like to know._

_Aria_

 

***

  


Dead ends greeted him at every turn. The ship Aria had given them had disappeared after leaving Omega. The Normandy had gone through six relay jumps before losing the trail. A quarian mechanic on Illium, an asari prostitute on Noveria, a human bounty hunter on Terra Nova and countless others who claimed to have seen the ship, the asari, Zaeed days ago but knew nothing more.

 

They were running out of time - if they hadn’t already. Shepard was forced to deviate from the search to complete missions for the Council or the Alliance. Cerberus had become the persistent thorn in Shepard’s side. Their attempts to thwart him at Grissom Academy, on Tuchanka, adding fuel to his hatred for the Illusive Man.

 

His patience, as well as his morale, rested somewhere at the bottom of Utha’s vast oceans, refusing to make an appearance. The days a constant drudgery of death and blood and smoke; his nights a continuous cycle of nightmares and fantasies twining their way through his mind, stealing sleep and rest.

 

“How about some eggs, Commander?” James asked one morning as he stared blankly at the empty coffee pot.

 

Shepard glanced up, surprised to find he wasn’t alone.

 

“ _Mi abuelitas_ recipe.”

 

He nodded and allowed himself to be maneuvered into a chair. James blathered on about the history behind the infamous dish he was preparing, anecdotes from his childhood, the dubiousness of the available ingredients. A steaming mug of black comfort appeared before him, and Shepard sipped it gratefully, letting the hot liquid warm the parts of him that had grown cold and distant.

 

Every scrap of information they’d managed to grasp floated in and out of his mind like a dream. Zaeed willingly meeting an asari for drinks, willingly leaving with her. The ship that appeared to have some sort of cloaking or stealth technology, erasing its heat signature and making it virtually untraceable by standard means. The random sightings of Zaeed and the asari in commercial ports around the galaxy - information gathered by Liara’s Shadow Broker resources. Then nothing.

 

There had to be something they were missing, some piece of the puzzle they’d overlooked. No one simply vanished into thin air. Zaeed was an incredible bounty hunter, but he was no match for the Shadow Broker - or he shouldn’t have been.

 

Everyone they’d spoken to had said the same thing - Zaeed and the asari weren’t looking for information; he didn’t appear to be under duress; the pair of them seemed to be on friendly terms sharing drinks and laughter in local bars, visiting arms dealers, purchasing ship parts and supplies. Everything so damned normal, like they were on a mission together or… More than one person they’d talked to had suggested the pair were a couple. That information throbbed in the empty recesses of his heart.

 

A plate of fried eggs swimming in spicy-smelling tomato sauce landed on the table. Shepard’s stomach rumbled, and he realized just how long it had been since he’d consumed anything but ration bars. He mumbled his thanks as he shoveled in forkful after forkful. It really was a delicious meal.

 

“This Zaeed is important to you, huh?”

 

James watched him, large, russet eyes focused intently on the Commander’s face. Shepard swallowed his mouthful, wiped his lips with the napkin James had provided, and washed it down with a swig of coffee. He laced his fingers on the tabletop and stared at them.

 

“It’s such a waste that you don’t realize how much someone means -  just exactly how very important they are to you - until they’re out of your reach.”

 

James gave a sagacious nod. “I get it,” the lieutenant said.

 

Shepard watched the younger man. They’d lived in close proximity for six months and learned so little about each other. Shepard knew he could be closed off. The constraints of rank often demanded he keep his distance. It was how he’d avoided romantic entanglements with crew members in the past. His physical needs had been satisfied through meaningless encounters in dark, seedy places. Emotional concerns had been largely ignored. He would be the first to admit to being stunted in that area, but maybe that was why he and Zaeed fit together so well.

 

Two damaged men, complete shit at emotional expression, but with the seeming ability to read each other like the simplest of children’s books. Shepard’s chest ached. He’d never had that with anyone. Not parents, nor friends. He couldn’t recall a single instance of anyone telling him that he was loved, but he’d read it in Zaeed’s eyes. Things with the asari could not be what they seemed. He had to find him.

 

Shepard typically chased after his obsessions with an assault rifle in hand, and this time was no different. He would track Zaeed down and kill anyone who tried to stop him. And if he found Zaeed anything less than whole and well, then those who had hurt him would suffer like they never had before.

  


***

 

_From: Adrien Victus_

 

_Commander Shepard:_

_Cerberus just ambushed a turian cruiser full of high-ranking Hierarchy officials. The cruiser managed to escape, but its location was top-secret. Cerberus couldn't have located that ship without inside information, and the only other person who knew the cruiser's position was volus ambassador Din Korlack. I've heard ugly rumors of a bounty out for his head._

 

_My advisors insist I can't bring these accusations against Korlack myself. I admit they're right. The turian and volus economies are tightly intertwined, and now isn't the time for the political crisis that would result. But the security of our fleets is at stake._

 

_I ask that you investigate Korlack in your capacity as a Spectre, and find out if he is, indeed, a Cerberus mole. I've forwarded information on his last known location to the Spectre office on the Citadel._

 

_Regards,_

_Primarch Victus_

 

***

 

Shepard was generally mistrustful of volus. He had yet to meet one he believed to be honest and forthright. Yeah, it was stereotyping. No, he didn’t care. He couldn’t think of a single member of the race that he’d enjoy sharing a drink with, but Din Korlack managed to rank even lower in Shepard’s estimation than the rest of his species. His current affront was attempting to bribe Shepard into letting him go without giving him the name of Cerberus’ bombing target.

 

Shepard glared down at the squat, little alien, willing him to give up the information. Lately, every mention of the pro-human group tightened Shepard’s jaw and set his teeth grinding against one another. He was in danger of giving himself an ulcer. His will had been forged in the fires of battle and some of the toughest training the galaxy had ever seen, but his stress levels were soaring, his tolerance thinner than tissue paper.

 

Sinking to his knees, Shepard grabbed the volus by the cowl of his armor. “You’ll give me everything,” Shepard hissed through clenched teeth, willing himself not to cause permanent damage to the bastard before he had the information he needed.

 

“You know about Massani?” A tendril of fear threaded through the alien’s mechanical-sounding voice. Shepard kept his expression neutral.

 

“No. But you’re going to tell me.”

 

Garrus and Javik guarded the door, so Shepard released Korlack and rose to his full height in an attempt to be more intimidating. Korlack paced, head cast down, breathing thick and uneven. “I’d used Mr. Massani’s… services in the past. Cerberus contacted me, asking for my help to lure him into a trap. They threatened to do more than expose me,” he said, turning to face Shepard.

 

Shepard’s blood became lava as rage crawled through his veins. “Tell me.” He couldn’t recall a time when his voice had held so much unrestrained malice.

 

The volus gulped, resumed his pacing. “My family. They threatened my family.”

 

“You’re threatening _my_ family,” Shepard said, surprising himself with his own sincerity. It was a hell of a time to unpack all these revelations about his feelings for Zaeed. What he needed was time alone and space to think. What he would get was more searching, more investigating, more sleepless nights.

 

“I’m sorry Commander.”

 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, you piece of shit.” He grabbed the volus again, this time shaking him in his fury. “Tell me.”

 

“I was to pass along a message for him to meet Petra T’vassa, an asari smuggler.”

 

Shepard’s heart sank. They were back at square one.

 

“Massani had worked with her in the past, I was told. They said he’d trust her, go with her. My own moles informed me that T’vassa would lure Massani with the promise of delivering Vido Santiago to him. Once aboard her ship, she was to incapacitate Mr. Massani - using drugs I presume since Cerberus wanted him alive. They claimed to have plans for him.”

 

Shepard spat a curse, his insides twisting painfully. He’d wasted so much fucking time already. Whatever plans Cerberus had likely involved some sort of indoctrination or mutation - or both. “Wait.” Shepard combed through the information in his mind. “We have eyewitnesses that place the pair of them in several different ports over the course of a few days. If she was to drug him and deliver him to Cerberus, why didn’t she knock him out right away?”

 

His question was directed at the general populace of the room, but it was Garrus who spoke first. “Maybe they ran into trouble?”

 

Korlack made a noise of agreement. “Yes. Their ship was attacked by pirates as soon as they left Omega. The ship made a few jumps as they searched for someone to discreetly make the repairs. According to T’vassa’s reports to the Illusive Man, she needed Massani’s help to get the ship fully operational again.”

 

“It still doesn’t add up,” Shepard said. “They both operate outside the bounds of the law on a regular basis. They both have connections on every conceivable planet. It seems ludicrous that they couldn’t get help anywhere. If she was going to deliver him to Cerberus, she could have asked them for help.”

 

The volus shrugged. “I’ve told you all I know. To my knowledge, Massani has yet to be delivered into Cerberus’ hands.”

 

He had no way of knowing if Korlack was being completely truthful, or if he’d genuinely shared all of his knowledge, but Shepard sensed that he wouldn’t get anything else from the volus right now. They left the hotel room where Korlack had been holed up, and Shepard set EDI to work scouring the ambassador’s files for more information then opened his omnitool. “Liara, set a tracer on Din Korlack. I want to know his every move, every message until Zaeed is found.”

 

“Of course, Commander.”

 

“And get me anything you can find on Vido Santiago’s whereabouts.”

 

Liara signed off, and Shepard led his team to a bar that he knew of where the staff were discreet and the clientele knew when to leave well enough alone. Sidling up to the bar, he made eye contact with the pale asari bartender. She gave him a barely perceptible nod then finished the drink she was pouring. Shepard ran through all the evidence in his mind while he waited. He’d used Zara for information before. She was very good and finding out things even some of the best military hackers couldn’t find. Her information didn’t come cheap, but Shepard was beyond caring at this point.

 

He needed the search for Zaeed to end sooner rather than later, for more reasons than one. He was tired of feeling pulled in a hundred directions at once, and his concern for the bounty hunter was making him restless, agitated, and exhausted. Soon he’d get sloppy, careless, and finding Zaeed would strike at least one item off his to-do list.

 

At least that’s what he told himself.

 

Shepard had never been the guy to _need_ anyone. A lone wolf from day one. His mother had tried - unsuccessfully - to corral him as a young child, at least until she’d been murdered by gang members, a casualty of their petty war. He learned quick that only the toughest survived, and he was determined to be a survivor. He’d never been in love because he’d never let himself care, and now Zaeed Massani had somehow weaseled his way into a place no one had ever been permitted before. And the hollowness that left in his chest pissed Shepard off.

 

When he was done teasing Zaeed for letting himself get taken, he was going to kick his ass for making Shepard feel this way.

 

Zara finished with her customers and began swiping down the bar, working her way toward Shepard. He waited patiently, having played this game with her before. The asari leaned across the bar to kiss Shepard on the cheek. “Good to see you again, sweetie,” she cooed.

 

Shepard cleared his throat. “You too, Zara.”

 

Javik rolled all his eyes - which was rather creepy. Garrus stared with the turian equivalent of a smirk. Shepard blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m looking for someone,” he told her. “A friend of mine.”

 

Zara’s prim, painted-on eyebrow arched. “A friend, huh?”

 

Shepard was unwilling to give her more ammunition than that. Instead, he pulled up a holo of Zaeed on his omnitool. Zara’s eyes widened just enough to give her away. “You know something?”

 

“I may have heard a few things.”

 

“How much is this going to cost me?”

 

“Nothing,” she said, an out of place serene smile on her face. “Though I may have to call in a favor later.”

 

“I’m not smuggling anything for you, Zara.”

 

“Shepard, you wound me,” she told him with false indignance. “I would never ask you to do anything illegal.”

 

“Right. I’m kind of in a hurry here.”

 

“Well, I can see the soldier’s life has completely killed your sense of humor.” She heaved an exasperated sigh.

 

Shepard counted to ten in his head, took a deep breath, and counted again. “Please Zara. I’m running out of time.”

 

Zara stared at him, amethyst eyes peering right through him, ferreting out his secrets by will alone. “By the goddess,” she whispered. “Are you in love with this person?”

 

“I’m not… I don’t… it’s…”

 

The smile on the asari’s face was almost secretive, as if she knew something about him that Shepard didn’t even know, himself. He turned the thought over slowly in his mind, testing that word love against what he knew to be true. Love was an unnecessary crutch for those too weak to stand on their own. It wasn’t a sentiment or state of being for people like Shepard and Zaeed. He wanted to laugh at the idea of Zaeed in love, the two of them in love with each other.

 

He imagined what Zaeed’s reaction would be to the question, could almost hear the wry, cynical timbre of his dusty voice as he cracked a joke. His chest ached with an unfamiliar stab of what could only be called longing. Lost in thought, he stared at his armor-clad fingers resting on top of the bar.

 

_Shepard’s body trembled as Zaeed thrust into him with a lazy roll of his hips. He gazed up into the mismatched pair of eyes boring into him with an intensity so foreign, so fierce, a thrill sparked through him, stealing his breath for a moment. One hand curled around Zaeed’s bicep. With the other, he traced the gnarled pattern of scars on his face, committing them to memory because in his heart he knew it would be their last night together._

 

_He would go to prison; Zaeed would move on with his life._

 

_“Don’t forget me,” he whispered, somehow needing this small reassurance, not caring that it made him sound weak, pathetic._

 

_Zaeed shook his head, murmured, “Never,” then pressed their lips together._

 

_He tangled his fingers into the short, brown strands of Zaeed’s hair and pulled him closer, deeper. Not even air could come between them._

 

Shepard blinked, eyes burning, throat constricting. Looking up, he saw Zara watching him, bright purple eyes in a powder blue face, too intuitive by far.

 

“Please,” was all he could say.

 

The pity in Zara’s eyes was a thousand times worse than perception she’d eyed him with before. “Petra never meant to turn Zaeed over to Cerberus. She intends to let Vido kill him.”

 

***

 

“Ambassador Korlack lied to you,” Liara greeted the moment Shepard cleared decontamination and stepped onto the bridge. She was carrying a datapad that she quickly shoved at him. “T’vassa delivered Zaeed to Cerberus as promised, but the pair of them ended up fighting their way out of the facility. Korlack knew this. I discovered some messages passed between him and his mole.”

 

Shepard gave the information on the datapad a cursory glance, though it didn’t shed much more light than what Liara had just told him. The question that nagged him was why? Why the fuck would Korlack lie about this? What did he stand to gain?

 

“Is there a connection between Korlack and the asari? Or Santiago?”

 

Liara tapped away on her omnitool as they walked toward the elevator. Shepard hit the button to take them to the crew deck, then followed Liara back to her office. Liara seamlessly shifted from the omnitool on her wrist, to the bank of computers and monitors on her wall. A list of Korlack’s crimes and possible connections to this case appeared before him, larger than life.

 

He remembered the ambassador from his Saren-hunting days. He’d been burdened with disdain for humans and had been downright rude to Shepard and his team. What would cause such a staunch hater of humanity to work for a faction of pro-human zealots?

 

The answer had to be money. Greed was a powerful motivator. Though there could have been something he hoped to gain - power, political clout? “I want to see what you have on Korlack working with Cerberus. Why the hell did this guy change his tune?”

 

Liara worked her magic, and more information appeared on the monitor. “Looks like the Illusive Man had been planning the coup for awhile,” she said, gesturing toward the screen. “He promised the ambassador that the volus would have more say in the political realm going forward in exchange for aid in stopping the Collectors.”

 

“Korlack doesn’t strike me as terribly naive,” Shepard said with a frown. “Stupid and mean, maybe, but not naive. He had to know that Cerberus was lying to him.”

 

He paced in front of the bank of monitors, chin resting on his fist. “So Korlack unwittingly becomes a pawn for Cerberus in his quest for political power and money. After the coup, he realizes he’s bet on the wrong horse, but he’s already given away high-value turian targets and probably other people, like Zaeed.”

 

And the crux of the issue was this: how the hell did all these little threads of evidence tie together into a story that made sense?

 

“Money makes people do stupid things,” Liara mused.

 

“So did Santiago give him money for Zaeed?”

 

It impressed him to watch Liara hack into Korlack’s bank accounts with barely a flick of her wrist. “Nothing directly linked to Santiago,” she murmured. “Let me see…” Her fingers flew over the holographic interface in much the same way that Joker’s did when he was flying them through a Reaper-infested zone. “Here! A holding company called Anvar Properties, which upon further inspection is just a front for moving vast sums of cash. Owned by a Miller Simpson.” She clicked a few more keys and a picture of Zaeed’s nemesis, Vido Santiago, appeared on the screen, an ID signature that read Miller Simpson with an address on Beckenstein accompanied it.

 

Liara continued, “Anvar Properties paid a sum of over ten million credits into one of Korlack’s not-so-hidden accounts about a month ago.”

 

“Right after the coup and just before Zaeed went missing.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“So Santiago has Zaeed holed up somewhere, waiting for what? Or, he’s already killed him, and we’re chasing after a ghost.” Shepard let that statement hang in the air for a moment, dark fingers of pain and terror clenching around his heart.

 

“Or,” Liara said, laying a gentle hand on his arm, “Zaeed is fighting his way to freedom as we speak.”

 

***

 

“Goddamnit!”

 

Zaeed ducked behind a crumbling baracade, dodging the latest barrage of fire from Santiago’s minions and taking a moment to catch his breath. “I’m too old for this shit,” he muttered to himself.

 

For a brief moment, he allowed himself to consider the events that had led him to this point.

 

Since Shepard’s arrest, he’d been going through the motions - ready to retire but feeling an odd pang of guilt whenever he considered it. Shepard was suffering for what he believed in. It seemed somehow… dishonorable for Zaeed to give up the fight under those circumstances. So what if he’d never considered himself an honorable man before the Collectors, the Reapers, or Cerberus.

 

Before Shepard.

 

Strange how some people had a way of worming their way under your skin. What had started out as fucking, fueled by unadulterated lust, had mysteriously transmuted into something much more complex. And the profound loneliness he’d felt after Shepard’s arrest astounded him.

 

He’d always been a loner. Sure he’d had a few steady partners in crime over the years. Folks who were good with a rifle and equally good in the sack. Made for the perfect arrangement. Track down bounties, earn credits, fuck away the stress at the end of a long goddamn day.

 

But Shepard had changed everything, as he was wont to do. Against all reason, his relationship with Shepard had become vital to his well being. The damn punk had a way of turning entire star systems on their ears. It really shouldn’t have surprised him that the kid had had the same effect on him.

 

The scuffle of Vido’s exhausted lackeys brought him back to his current predicament. He lobbed a grenade over the barricade and popped in a fresh heat sink before rolling out of cover to lay down a round of suppressing fire. His blood sang with the adrenaline of the moment, but for the first time in his life he really took stock of what he was feeling.

 

It wasn’t enough.

 

For years, he’d lived from one fight to the next, working his way across the galaxy taking what he wanted. He’d never been a thief - nothing so crass - but he’d always operated on the wrong side of the law. Taking matters into his own hands rather than trusting the authorities to deal with the criminals of the world.

 

Shepard was the first person he’d met who shared his outlook. While law enforcement and the military were bound by the bureaucracy, free agents were held by no such constraints. As a soldier, Shepard had been allowed to get away with slightly - and sometimes completely - disregarding the law because he got results, which made it easier for the Brass to turn a blind eye to some of his more questionable choices. As a Spectre, he was free to deal with people like Vido Santiago as he saw fit. And while he had just enough moral compunction to keep from being deemed a true monster - which was how Vido had gotten away on Zorya in the first place - he had a reputation for getting the job done at any cost.

 

They were perfect for each other, Zaeed realized in a startling moment of clarity that sent him careening for cover once more. Closing his eyes he thought about the days that he and Shepard had spent together. He remembered Shepard’s smile, his laugh, the way the skin at the corners of his vibrant eyes crinkled when he did either. He thought about how Shepard’s mouth tasted, how his rough fingers felt against his skin. He recalled deep conversations where both of them had discussed things they’d never mentioned to anyone else, sharing a part of themselves that they’d always kept on reserve.

 

And the simple truth hit him like a concussive round: he was in love with Shepard.

 

When Petra had approached him about hunting down Vido, Zaeed had been ready for it to all be over. Oh, he didn’t have a death wish or anything so juvenile. He was simply at peace with what he’d accomplished in life and figured taking down his old nemesis was as good a way to go out as any, if it came down to it. He hadn’t trusted the asari as far as he could throw her, given their past. She’d already tried to sell him out to the Blood Pack once, years ago, but he clung to that old adage: “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

 

Come to find out, she’d been paid by both Vido and Cerberus to bring him in and, in her greed, had tried to play both sides against the middle. It was a shame. Once upon a time, Zaeed had considered her a friend. Maybe it could have been something more, but she’d squandered that when she’d betrayed him.

 

After they’d cleared the Cerberus base where the bastards were turning humans into husks and Petra was sitting pretty with a tidy sum of Cerberus credits in her bank account, Zaeed guessed her game. He didn’t feel an ounce of regret for killing her and spacing her out the airlock. The dumb bitch had already set the coordinates for Vido’s hideout on Intai’sei into her ship’s nav system.

 

He began to fight with renewed vigor, no longer at peace with his life ending this way. He had to find Shepard - if the man was still alive in the wake of the Reaper invasion - and tell him how he felt. A new experience to be sure.

 

He’d run into old lovers on occasion in the past, and they’d been great for a good snog or fuck but never more than that. He hadn’t wanted the hassle, the baggage. Now there was a niggling ache in his chest, a restlessness that fueled his desire to end this battle - to lay the ghost of Vido Santiago to rest at last - so that he could look to the future.

 

And he’d never be happy unless that future included Shepard.

 

***

 

“ETA to the base: three minutes,” Cortez told him. “Sir, there’s a lot of smoke up ahead. It appears the building is on fire.”

 

“Fucking perfect,” Shepard muttered, pacing the small interior of the shuttle. Both Kaidan and Garrus were staring at him with dubious expressions, but Shepard ignored them both.

 

The itch he’d begun to feel under his skin the moment he realized that he loved Zaeed had only worsened with time. It was driving him insane, and he still hadn’t decided whether to kiss the man or throttle him when he found him. The pretense that this was just another mission in a lengthy line had vanished long ago. These stakes were higher to Shepard. In his gut he believed this war would be the end of him, and he’d never faced his emotions or feelings on any level until now. He owed it to himself to give that a shot at least once before he died.

 

To keep himself from fidgeting, he checked his weapons and armor one last time as the shuttle set down. As the door opened, he swallowed down nerves he hadn’t felt since he was a raw recruit. But if he’d learned anything during his years as an N7 and Spectre, it was how to tamp down what he was feeling and focus on the mission.

 

Smoke roiled around them, decreasing visibility, which made an uncertain situation that much more dangerous. Shepard hated wearing a helmet, but he kept it on and the seals firmly engaged to keep the smoke out of his lungs.

 

“Not picking up any hostiles with my visor,” Garrus reported.

 

“Roger that.” Shepard focused on what he could see - rocks jutting out of the baked clay and sand terrain around them, reds and golds glinting in the perpetual twilight of the planet.

 

“Movement ahead.”

 

Shepard flashed a few hand signals, hoping that vision wasn’t so obscured that his team wouldn’t see them. He needn’t have worried, though. Both Garrus and Kaidan knew him well enough to predict what he wanted them to do.

 

Taking cover behind a rocky crag, Shepard leaned out and peered through his rifle’s scope. The flash of familiar yellow spiked his heart rate and swamped him with a dizzying flood of vertigo.

 

“Massani?” he shouted, knowing he was giving their position away but trusting his gut.

 

“Shepard, you old bastard. Figures that it’s you. Everything’s clear.”

 

Shepard stood, his team following suit.

 

“You come all the way out here just for me?” Zaeed asked when they were standing face to face. Through their helmets, Shepard couldn’t see much, but just hearing the man’s voice was enough. For now.

 

“Heard some nasty rumors about you getting kidnapped.”

 

Zaeed scoffed. “Really, Shepard, you shouldn’t believe every goddamn thing you hear. You got a way off this rock?”

 

Shepard laughed and headed back toward the shuttle. Taking off his helmet was a relief in more ways than one. Being able to see Zaeed’s face, to see with his own eyes that the man was unharmed, alleviated some of the tension he’d been carrying for what felt like years. But the freedom was fleeting.

 

Seeing Zaeed’s face made him realize that he couldn’t wait to get his hands, his mouth, on the man. And when Zaeed answered by licking his lips, Shepard almost jumped him right then and there. Professionalism be damned.

 

Kaidan broke the spell by clearing his throat. “Shepard, didn’t you win a house on Intai’sei years ago?”

 

Shepard cocked his head and thought about it. He’d completely forgotten that. After besting the war games on Pinnacle Station, he and the old Normandy crew had spent a weekend the house he’d won from Admiral Ahern. It had been a much needed break from the hunt for Saren. When they’d left, he’d locked the door and never thought of the place again. “I did,” he finally admitted. “Don’t know what happened to it.”

 

“Well, I do.”

 

Shepard tore his eyes away from Zaeed to look at his fellow Spectre. Once upon a time, he had thought he might feel for Kaidan the way he did about Zaeed now, but that was not meant to be.

 

“All your property was liquidated by the Alliance after… after Alchera, and I… I bought it.”

 

Few things in this world surprised Shepard anymore, but this did. “Why?”

 

“It doesn’t matter why,” Kaidan said with a wave of his hand. “What matters is that I own the house which is only a couple hours from here.” His cheeks blazed pink. “And you two look like you could use some… privacy.”

 

Zaeed laughed, a short blast of sound. Shepard figured he should feel embarrassed, but he didn’t. His eyes locked with Zaeed’s and he barely registered the rest of the crew laughing as Steve made the necessary course corrections to take them to their own little slice of paradise.

  


***

  


“I could use a shower,” Zaeed declared the moment the door slid shut behind them.

 

Shepard concurred. Despite the fact that, in the end, he hadn’t done any actual fighting to ensure Zaeed’s safety, his mind felt clouded now that the weight of worry had been lifted. He waited until they’d both shed their upper body armor to grab the front of Zaeed’s undersuit and haul the man toward him.

 

Their mouths crashed together in desperation. Six months was a drop in the bucket of the span of their lives, but the ache in his chest had reached such a crescendo that it demanded release the only way it knew how. By touching Zaeed at last.

 

Their trip to the shower was peppered with fits and starts as they disrobed while attempting to maintain as much body contact as possible. In the end, they stumbled into the bathroom, naked and sweaty, arms wrapped as tightly around each other as they could manage.

 

“Bloody chivalrous of your friend to offer his place to us for reunion sex,” Zaeed said.

 

Shepard couldn’t stop staring at him - the line of his jaw, marred by ragged scars; the mismatched eyes that saw more than Shepard had ever allowed anyone to see; the firm set of his lips, slightly pink from kissing. “I love you,” he blurted, feeling relieved and like an idiot at the same time.

 

Zaeed, arrogant bastard that he was, grinned at him. “I love you, too.”

 

Shepard backed him against the shower wall, attacking his mouth with renewed fervor. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of Zaeed, the feel of their wet skin sliding together. His heart beat so hard in his chest he was sure Zaeed could feel it where their bodies were pressed together.

 

“It was a long six goddamn months,” Zaeed murmured.

 

Wrapping his fingers through Zaeed’s hair, Shepard tugged his head back, exposing his neck, then took advantage of the smooth expanse before him. He bit down on Zaeed’s throat, sucking an ugly bruise on the salty skin. Zaeed’s hands squeezed his ass, pulling him closer until their hard cocks were trapped between them.

 

“Yes, Shepard,” Zaeed murmured as the younger man rocked his hips forward, chasing that delicious friction that would send them both over the edge. “Missed you. So fucking much.”

 

Back and forth they went, muttering truths that they might not allow themselves to say in the bright light of day. But here in the steamy shower, eyes closed, their focus on the pleasure of being together again, the words poured out like a stream after the spring rains. Shepard had never felt so at peace, so settled in his own skin.

 

He ground their hips together, chasing that release that would bring a final wave of reassurance that for now everything was alright and that they’d face tomorrow together. They found it in unison, tipping over the edge, hand in hand, bodies strung tight and pressed together, trembling.

 

For long minutes, they held each other under the blistering spray of water. “Does it make me too much of a pansy to admit that I was terrified?” Shepard breathed into the skin of Zaeed’s shoulder.

 

Zaeed huffed, hugging him tighter. “Not at all. I was too, truth be told. I… Well, I wondered if I’d ever…”

 

It was Shepard’s turn to hold him tighter.

 

“Did you really think I’d been kidnapped?” Zaeed pushed him away and held him at arms length.

 

Shepard took the time to assess the damage. Zaeed’s lips were bruised and bleeding, his neck and chest rubbed raw from Shepard’s stubble. Their mutual release was sliding away in the stream of water coursing down his body. Shepard figured he must have looked much the same. He swallowed, then shrugged.

 

“Everyone slips up now and again,” he said, reaching for the bar of soap and slathering it across his chest. “Maybe I kinda like the idea of damsel-in-distress Zaeed.”

 

Zaeed snorted. “You’re so full of shit.”

 

Shepard grinned. “Hurry up and wash, old man, so we can have a proper reunion in bed.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading! ♥


End file.
